


But Whose They Could Not Tell

by PeppermintTchaikovsky



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Angst, Death, F/F, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppermintTchaikovsky/pseuds/PeppermintTchaikovsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after the Trojan War is over, someone is determined to right the perceived wrongs of Helen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Whose They Could Not Tell

The dappled sunlight made Helen’s hair glow as she sat under the almond tree. Even from a distance, Briseis could see that she was smiling and laughing with her friend Polyxa and her servants. Briseis opened her mouth to call out to Helen but suddenly a hand wrapped around her throat and clamped across her mouth. She tried to yell but her screams were muffled.  
She watched in mute horror as Polyxa and her servants cast off their cloaks to reveal daggers and rope. He captor dragged her closer to the tree by her hair. Briseis fought as hard as she could but she could not free herself.  
As the servants bound Helen’s hands behind her back, Helen noticed Briseis.  
“Let her go!” she yelled.  
“Please, I beg you. I’ll do anything,” Helen tried to break free and run towards her beloved, but the servants caught her. However, she still fought with all her might.  
While her captor was distracted, Briseis tried to make a break for the tree in order to try to help Helen. Unfortunately, he noticed and once he had caught her he kicked at the back of her knees so she fell to the ground. Briseis did not scream as she felt the cold metal of his dagger press against the back of her neck.  
“Don’t hurt her!” Helen screamed as tears ran down her face.  
“She didn’t do anything,” she paused for a moment.  
“Take me instead. Let me pay for my crimes and leave her out of this. She could never cause such harm to anybody.” She whispered.  
Briseis tried to scream for her to stop and think about what she was doing- what she was offering. She felt the tip of the dagger pierced her skin, but she found that she didn’t really mind. If she was dead, she thought Helen would live and that’s what mattered. Her captor laughed as Polyxa gave him an order in some language Briseis didn’t understand. She supposed it meant kill her.  
Helen screamed as the man pushed the dagger through Briseis’s throat. The wet sound of her blood on the grass made Helen sick. She tried to run and comfort her treasured friend, but it was all in vain. With a twisted grin, Briseis’s captor let her fall in the grass and he walked up to Helen. He spat at her feet and she spat back.  
Every breath that Briseis took hurt and she inhaled more blood that air. Her body convulsed and the pained wet sounds that were wrenched from her throat were disgusting to even her own ear. She wanted Helen to look away and to never see her in such a wretched state.  
Her dress that she had borrowed from Helen was soaked through with her blood. As her vision faded in and out, she watched the servants and Helen through red tinted grass. Briseis heard Helen scream and struggle and she heard her captor’s laughter. Weakly, she grabbed her now blood soaked locket and used her last ounce of energy to open it. She held within her trembling fingers Helen’s smiling portrait. Holding it to her heart, she closed her eyes and greeted Thanatos with open arms.

***  
“Are you sure they came here?” asked Achilles.  
“Yes, Helen was to stay with Polyxa until spring and she could return to Phthia with us,” answered Patroclus.  
“Briseis too?”  
“Of course. You know how they could never be parted.” Patroclus said, laughing slightly at Achilles’ question.  
All laughter stopped then they came to a flowering almond tree. The breeze shifted and the smell of rotting meat overtook the two lovers.  
“By the gods,” Achilles whispered, tears streaming down his face.  
Patroclus fell to his knees and wretched. Achilles tore his eyes from the tree and kneeled next to Patroclus. Patroclus grabbed Achilles’ arm and sobbed into his shoulder. Achilles wrapped his other arm around Patroclus and also began to cry. Against his will he brought his eyes back to the tree. Hanging from it’s lowest branch were the bodies of Briseis and Helen so bloody and broken that they did not tell one from another. With Achilles’ hand clutched within his own, Patroclus approached the tree.   
Blackened blood streaked one girl’s hair and the other girl had her hair cut off leaving deep cuts that exposed her skull. Flies buzzed and crawled in their eye sockets. Patroclus had to look away to keep from vomiting. A jackal snapped at one of the girl's ankle. One girl had been stabbed through the neck and the other had a gash through her chest. A glance to the other side of the tree revealed exactly what had transpired. Achilles sank to his knees and screamed. The sound echoed through the valley as broken as a lion’s roar. Patroclus knew there would be blood the next day, but whose, he could not tell.


End file.
